Mushi
by Dilly-chan
Summary: A Zabuza and Haku fanfic. No, it isn't dirty, I promise. Read it, and draw your own conclusions about the beginning and end. It starts out after the second fight with Kakashi. Apparently, Zabuza survived by unknown reasons.. Unfortunately, Haku did not.


Disclaimer-- I don't own Naruto, or any of the characters in it. This is just a simple fanfic, written at 2 in the morning when I was depressed. Have at it.

Summer's warmth had dissolved away for the year; leaving in its wake the cold temperatures of winter. Tiny white snowflakes descended from above, gathering on the ground like a thick blanket, pure and clean. Dazed and alone the Missing-nin trudged onward. No mind was paid to his body's shivers. Empty gaze never strayed from the invisible path he followed nor did his feet stumble beneath him. Not even a single kunai knife was on his person for the purpose of self-defense; though his injuries had finally healed, arms regaining their ability to move, the will to live had forever left him behind in the cold.

It had been carried off on the pure white wings of an angel. An angel who had died without knowing that he had been this man's life. An angel whose beautiful wings had been incapable of tainting, even just slightly, no matter the abuse given or recieved by his porcelain body. The words burning deep within his heart had never been spoken. Nor would they ever be. Instead they would remain silenced, to steadily eat away his core with every passing second.

Each step made his body feel heavier; soon he couldn't keep his head up. Every person he passed seemed to stop and stare. If they recognized him, then why did none attack? Did they realize that he was already dead? Or, perhaps, they were inwardly laughing, that the Devil of the Hidden Mist was no more than a crying baby demon...? Truly, it didn't matter to him any longer. Let them think as they pleased. What was it to him? He had not returned to Kirigakure Village to cause trouble in any way.

No; something had pulled him there. Guided him, really, back to the place where it had all begun, regardless of his status, regardless of how suicidal it were. If he had truly cared about his safety he would have fled the country altogether. But instead the chosen destination by his body was a small, snowy village he remembered passing through so very long ago.

There had been nothing important there, back then. Now was no different. It was as if the village had not changed at all in so many years; even some of the faces seemed torn right out of the pages of memories. Nice, and peaceful. Too much so for his personal tastes. Like the drop of the tiniest pin would send everything into a panic if deemed out of place. Ah; but he could see through the charade. This was no peaceful place to live; there was little happiness. The wars had made sure of that. How many citizens could honestly say that their hands were not sullied by the blood of another? .. Like all the others in the Mist Continent, hatred ran rampant for those with advanced bloodlines. Entire clans were slaughtered regardless of their innocence. There was no doubt.. that not even such a fact as that had changed with time. But that was a tale best left behind for this trip. Hm.. Just like that night, it was snowing here. Snowing...

..Yes...snowing... And the bridge. The bridge. Again and again his mind played the memory of that fateful night for him to view. A little boy, scrawny, barely seeming to have the strength to survive one more day. He had been alone. Abandoned, perhaps? Unwanted by anyone in this place he had called 'home'. Ragged clothes covered a frail body, black tangled hair hung limp around his face. Such a pathetic child he was, huddled there to one side of the bridge, as if waiting for a miracle. Probably hoping for that kind voice to offer him comfort, for that warm, loving embrace to take him away from all of his suffering.

What a sad, pathetic child he had been, that boy. But as soon as that head had lifted, and hopeful-- so innocent, yet so sad...-- brown eyes had cast their sweet gaze upon him, his heart had been stolen. Never to be returned. That smile had melted any walls of ice encasing his heart within its cruel prison.

'Mister, you have the same eyes as me...' ..

..What he would give to see that smile, just once more...

Suddenly he had become that child; huddled there, alone, crying tears that went unnoticed as silent hopes fell on deaf ears. His very existence was meaningless; he'd lost everything. And for what? His ideals. His goals. His dreams for the future that he realized too late were not the key to his happiness. Everything he had wanted--needed--had been right there with him all along. Smiling.

"..Haku..." The name passed those bruised lips in a choked sob. Once, wrapping would have helped stifle such a sound. It would have sheltered him from the prying eyes of the world. Giving him the courage to sneer, or smirk, or laugh. But now all he could do was shed tears. As those wet drops streamed down his face, calloused fingers dug furiously into the flesh of his palms, until finally red ribbons trickled from beneath them, and he tilted his head back to glare towards the night sky. Eyes focusing exclusively on the moon. From the very depths of his soul rose a scream. But all the moon replied was silent laughter; mocking him, disgracing him.

Footsteps. Yes, he heard them clearly, but could not bring himself to care. Let them kick him, punch him, or kill him. And yet, just slightly to one side his aching body leaned, gaze shifting to seek out the possible disruption's source. First what caught his attention was brown and green; familiar enough to send a violent shiver up his spine. Or perhaps it was the cold biting into the skin that was bare...?

The footsteps seemed to slow as they approached. Until finally they ceased altogether. He would have chalked it up to his imagination; to his lack of sanity, should it come down to such a questioning. But a voice broke through the silence with the ease of a knife.

"You were looking for me." No... It couldn't be. Haku was dead. There was no way-- But when he looked up, it was into those brown eyes, cementing as truth the impossibility of the voice betraying him.

Haku. Just as the boy had been before that final battle. Everything; from the way those long silky black locks were put up, to the twinge of scarlet in each cheek courtesy of the chilling breeze. And that smile...

That beautiful, beautiful smile! How he longed to freeze that moment so that it would never fade! The smile was innocent; not even the taste of blood and death could change it. He was.. grateful to that. Did Haku know? He would tell him, one day. He would tell him everything. But for now, there was an ache in his heart, one that would not leave him in peace.

His arms shot out, pulling the boy tightly to him as the tears returned to his eyes. Surprisingly, the other's smaller limbs found their way about his waist in reply. That warm breath caressed the side of his neck, tickling him as more delicate words were whispered directly into his ear. Like a lullaby. "Zabuza-san... thank you, for returning..."

Suddenly Zabuza quieted; blue-tinted lips upturning into a faint, but bitter, smile. One hand rested upon each of the boy's shoulders, and he thrust him arms-length away. Expression saddening as he slowly shook his head. "..You..are not Haku." The words burned his tongue to speak, dripping with the vemon that filled his bloodstream at such a sad realization. It was so painful to admit this. And yet, what choice did he have? "..The real Haku..would be crying right now.. Heh..." Haku had been too kind, too gentle...

To this the young Mist nin's own smile softened. No; no matter how good the act, it was no more than that; a charade. The best disguise, but still, it could not match the deceased boy's natural purity. No matter how close it came it fell just short. Leaving a gaping hole to be filled with nothing but sorrow.

When the other produced a kunai, he was ready. Ready for death to finally cradle in its nurturing embrace a body whose soul had departed so long ago. Arms spread wide open to invite the unavoidable deathblow. He was ready, to at last rest. "Thank you. For the beautiful lie."

Had his future really been marked as death? Ah; it was all right. The boy seemed to understand. For a fleeting second, Zabuza really did see Haku in him. Silently he prayed that this one's life would be long and full of joy. Just what he had wanted for his Haku.

"Go now... The -real- Haku has been waiting for you, for so long..." There was no accompanied explanation for those final words. No pain from the attack, either; darkness engulfed him instantly, while all around them the beautiful sheets of white were painted a thick shade of red. And right before the last breath left his lungs he saw that smile.

..It was..warm. Too warm, in fact. Hnh.. sunlight? Those eyes cracked open enough to reveal for his mind's comprehension the color green, surrounding him on all sides. Forest.

A hand crept ever closer to his face. He could sense it. Immediately, a hand of his own combatted it, grabbing it firmly to cease the movement. Small; slender. Feminine. Words describing what he felt. This time his eyes opened fully.

Kneeling beside him in the grass was his beloved companion. Sure, that damned mask hid his face from view. But behind that covering, sheltered from the world, Haku was smiling. A soothing aura was given off by him, unmistakeable with any other's, so pure was it.

This was his Haku. Smiling -just- for him.


End file.
